Page 78 of The Truth of Loving You

His breathing had regulated a while ago. I didn’t want to wreck the moment, but I couldn’t pretend he was fine and move on.

“Baby, whatever this is, you can’t live like this.” I rubbed my cheek against his hair.

“I know. I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked. “I wanted to figure this out first and put it behind me. It’s almost over. I promise.”

My pulse kicked up with that cryptic promise. Not knowing if I was going to get the Shane that begged me not to leave him while orgasming or the Shane that pushed me away when he needed me most nearly broke me.

I held Shane, binding myself to him, so he’d never let go.

Chapter forty-two

Shane

“Aboutanotherhour,”Isaid, watching Cole’s reaction.

Cole drove with a wary expression. He’d agreed to come with me today without questions, but I wondered if he regretted it now. I hadn’t given him any information because I was afraid he wouldn’t agree if he knew the details. Most likely, I was projecting my fears onto him.

Today, I’d tell Cole everything and find out if he’d love all of me. Either way, I had to forge a new life for myself. Cole had no idea what had happened, and he should hear it from me.

Our birthday and the call from my mother set off a chain of events that I’d never seen coming. There weren’t words that conveyed my regret over using my safe word and obligating Cole to leave. If he were a lesser man, he would have argued. But he honored my cowardly demand and left.

Last night, I’d said the one word that I’d hoped would bring him to me. And it did. There was no guarantee he would stay with me, but I had to stop living in fear. I needed to reclaim my life as mine and live it according to what I wanted.

“Are you planning my murder and making me drive to my own body dumpsite?” Cole’s joke landed flat.

“Not today,” I said in a falsely cheery, sing-song voice. “Thank you for dropping everything for me. Again. I hate that you have to do that for me. I’m going to try to be better.”

Cole took my hand and squeezed. “I was serious when I said I do anything for you. I meant it, but I would like to know where we’re going.”

“The town I grew up in is about seventy-five miles north of Manhattan,” I explained. “I have so much to tell you, but I want to wait until we get there. I’m afraid if I start talking, I won’t actually make it there. I know I’m asking too much from you.” I laced our fingers together, wondering if he would think differently of me.

“A couple hours and a car ride isn’t too much to ask, and although I’d love to see where you grew up, it seems like it doesn’t hold good memories.” He brought our joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of mine.

“It wasn’t all bad, not when I was young. If I tell you some good things, will you wait to ask me questions until we get there?” Cole reluctantly nodded, and I took a deep breath and started my story. “I had a Paxton growing up; his name was Shep. We did everything together, and I meaneverything. He was my best friend and more.” I ignored the curious glance from Cole.

“He had the best sense of humor, and everyone loved him. He made everyone laugh, and he also had the biggest heart. I was the weird kid with my nose stuck in a book, but he always included me, even when his friends made fun of him. He never cared that I had a hard time making friends or that I’d rather read than talk to people.

“Kids bullied him because of how close we were. I offered to pretend we weren’t friends at school so neither of us would have to hear the taunts and cruel things the kids said. But he told me that he would never be friends with anyone who wasn’t friends with me.

“He was brilliant. A whiz with numbers like me,” I said, and Cole opened his mouth to speak but didn’t.

I appreciated his restraint and leaned over to kiss him. When he turned his head, our lips connected for a brief moment.

For the next forty-five minutes, I regaled Cole with my adventures with Shep and all the ways we were different and the same.

By the time we hit the city limits, I was shaking and thankful I hadn’t eaten more. I would’ve vomited all over myself or Cole’s car.

“Baby, you don’t have to do this.” Cole’s concern radiated through the car.

I pointed ahead to the cemetery with a jumble of nerves. I should have told him about this instead of blindsiding him, but hearing something and seeing it are two different things.

Cole’s jaw flexed, and his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. I’m sure he had an inkling that this was inevitable. I spoke of Shep in the past tense.

We exited the car, and I clung to his solid arm for support. I zigzagged through the markers; this was my second trip here since my therapist told my parents to stop forcing me to come.

I stopped in front of the grave. The left side was engraved with:

Shepard Reynolds

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